A Walk Home
by ladyofeverything
Summary: Robert and Cora go home together after their visit to the Dowager Countess. 3x06 post-episode.


_I felt something had to be written to conclude the latest episode and add more closure to Robert and Cora's arc. I hope you'll enjoy._

_**Disclaimer:**__ None of the characters are obviously mine. I bow down to Julian Fellowes._

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As Dr Clarkson took his leave, Robert slowly turned around to face his wife, hardly daring knowing what to expect. He felt a weight had been lifted off his own chest, for even though the pain remained, he could at least now allow himself the relief of not being personally responsible for Sybil's death. But would Cora see it the same way?

His eyes found hers and, for the first time since the death of their child, he saw no accusation or resentment in those eyes, only bottomless sorrow about to spill over. And at that moment Robert knew he had become her husband again. Instead of the man who had killed her daughter, she could once again see the father of her child, her own grief reflected in the eyes of the only person who could truly comprehend the magnitude of her loss.

It was no moment for conscious thoughts or deep reflection, but all this Robert knew instinctively as he crossed the room and took Cora in his arms for the first time since that dreadful night of Sybil's death. And in his arms she finally broke down and wept like she had never done before. He could do nothing but weep with her as his own sorrow melted into hers.

Robert could not say how long they stood there simply holding each other, but it was some time even after Cora's sobs had faded before she finally lifted her head off his chest and quietly pulled away, her eyes cast down.

"Cora," Robert whispered, gently wiping a stray tear off his wife's cheek. She did not look up to meet his eyes again, but she did not recoil either, which Robert had to take as a promising sign.

"Thank you, Mama," she said, her voice still breaking as she addressed her mother-in-law. Robert had almost forgotten the continuing presence of his mother in the room.

The Dowager Countess, who had discreetly removed herself off to the side, turned to look at the grieving couple. Beneath her characteristically stern countenance there was warmth in her eyes as she spoke:

"Do not thank me, my dear. It was Dr Clarkson who spent hours studying the results of similar cases." She paused, studying Cora's expression for a moment. "I would not have troubled either of you if I did not feel that the truth would in time at least save you the grief of wondering what could have been."

Cora nodded slowly but did not speak.

"Would either of you stay for lunch?" the Dowager Countess offered, sensing that the subject would at present be better left to be processed in silence.

Robert, unwilling to answer for his wife, looked at Cora expectantly. Her decision would be his.

"Thank you Mama, but I think I would rather go home right now," she said. "I feel tired."

"Of course you do, dear," said the Dowager Countess kindly. "I will have the car brought around at once."

"Actually I think I would rather walk," Cora replied weakly. "I feel I need the fresh air."

Robert exchanged a look with his mother. With a silent movement of her head, the old lady prompted him to speak.

"Are you quite sure?" he asked, squeezing Cora's hand softly. "It is not a short walk."

Finally Lady Grantham looked up to meet her husband's eyes again. "Will you walk with me then?" she asked hesitantly.

Robert could not fight the smile that pushed its way on to his face.

"Of course I will walk with you," he said sliding her hand under his arm. "Anywhere you want to go."

She gave her a faint ghost of a smile in return. "I think home will do just fine."

Once Cora's tears had been sufficiently subdued and dried, they bid the Dowager Countess goodbye and began walking slowly across the village and towards Downton in silence. There were many things Robert wished to say, but nothing seemed appropriate as an opening for conversation.

Besides, he did not want to try and push the newly found thin ground of good will he had so recently found. At that moment he was perfectly happy simply cherishing the fact he had his wife by his side again, not because she was obliged to be seen in his company, but because she had chosen to take the slow way home with him.

They continued in silence for so long that when Cora finally spoke, Robert was startled by the sound of her voice.

"I should probably apologise to you, Robert," she said hoarsely, her eyes fixed on the path in front of them.

"No, it is I who should apologise," he hastened to say before she could go on.

"But I held you responsible for –, " Cora interjected before choking on her words, unable to finish the sentence. Robert nodded his head, understanding the unspoken words. _For Sybil's death. _

"You held me no more responsible than I held myself," he said gravely. "I should never have disregarded Dr Clarkson's advice, but my only excuse, vain as it may have been, was that I thought I was acting in Sybil's best interest."

Cora pressed her eyes shut. Robert knew she was fighting tears again. They both paused on the side of the road.

"Cora," he said gently. "Even though we now know that neither choice would have affected the outcome, I want you to know I regret not siding with you. Regardless of either Dr Clarkson or Sir Philip Tapsell, it is you I should have listened to."

The tears she had tried to fight now fell down Cora's cheeks as she shook her head.

"I would only have subjected her to more pain and horror than what there already was," she said quietly, her voice breaking.

Robert took her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"No, Cora," he said as evenly as he could while his own chest was swelling with feelings of sorrow. "No. Even if the outcome could not have been changed, we would at least have known we did everything we could."

"I'm afraid," he continued after a short pause when Cora would not reply, "that this is a case where pain and regret could not have been avoided no matter which choice was made."

Cora sighed, using her gloves in a most unladylike manner as she tried to dry her tears. "Then how can we ever learn to live with what happened?" she asked helplessly.

Robert took out his handkerchief, gently dabbing Cora's cheeks with it.

"I don't know," he said ruefully. "I really do not know."

When they slowly began walking towards Downton again, the silence that fell between them felt easier than it had been at the beginning of their journey. As if of mutual decision, they did not speak again until the great house came into view. There, however, under an old chestnut tree Robert paused, and as his steps came to a halt, so did Cora's.

"Do you remember the first time I took you here?" he asked, his eyes glazing over as he looked at the home of his ancestors. "We stood right here and you held my arm just as you're doing now."

"How could I ever forget? I had never been so scared in my life."

Robert smiled, turning to look at his wife.

"But you prevailed," he said softly, giving her hand a warm squeeze. "You prevailed."

"Oh Robert," Cora sighed. There was sadness in her eyes as she looked at him.

"I know you will prevail again," he whispered closing her in his embrace once more. "Even if you don't believe it now, I know you will."

"And what about you?"

"My happiness is tied to yours," he said simply after a short pause. "If you will allow it to be."

Cora smiled sadly, looking at him for a long time. "Then let us go inside before we both catch a cold," she finally said.

Uncertain of how to take her response, Robert offered her his arm for the remainder of the walk and was grateful when she did not reject it. When she squeezed his arm ever so slightly, he knew his offer had been accepted.


End file.
